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must know – what is happening in the world."
    "Oh, must one?" responded the Earl.
    The unexpected coldness in his voice made Jacina tremble but she stood firm.
    "It is easy to – retreat from the world – then you – retreat from people and then – in the end – from your very self."
    The Earl's lips curled. "You speak with such authority for one so young."
    Jacina lifted her head. "I have witnessed it, my Lord. In my father's patients – there are those who endure and those who – " She bowed her head again, unable to continue.
    "And those who capitulate!" the Earl finished for her. "Is that what you were about to say?"
     "Yes," agreed Jacina miserably.
    The Earl's dark, unseeing eyes seemed to glaze over. He sank back in his chair.
    "It must be borne," he murmured.
    There was silence between them. Logs in the fire snapped and the clock ticked on. Jacina's eyes roved desperately over the room. In the far corner she noticed a small pianoforte. It was not as grand as the pianoforte that she knew stood upstairs in the music room, but it was a perfectly adequate instrument.
    "Shall I play for you, my Lord?" she asked.
    The Earl made a desultory gesture. "Why not?"
    Jacina rose and crossed to the pianoforte. She raised the lid and sat down. She thought for a moment and then began to play a soothing piece from memory. After a moment she completely lost herself in the melody and began to sing.
    The sound seemed to sweeten the very air in the room.
    When she had finished playing she looked over to where the Earl was sitting. As if sensing her gaze, he turned towards her. His features had softened.
    "Come here, Jacina," he said.
    She closed the lid and rejoined him at the fire.
    The Earl bent his head for a moment before speaking.
    "I believe I have misused you this morning," he said. "I humbly apologise."
    Looking at him, Jacina saw again the proud young man who had apologised for laughing at her when she had lost her bonnet.
    "Your dulcet tones when reading made me relax my guard," he resumed. "I gave vent to feelings that had become insupportable. It will not happen again. I have no wish to scare you off so soon. I have a feeling your company is going to be as good for me as one of your father's tonics. Will you forgive me? Will you promise to continue to be my little helper?"
     Jacina's thoughts were swimming.
    It was torture for her to be near the Earl and know she could never allow herself to feel more for him than friendship. Yet how could she resist his plea that her company would do him good?
    "I shall be happy to – continue to be – of service, my Lord," she ventured at last.
    The Earl smiled. " Then let us shake hands on it, Jacina Carlton!"
    With that, he leaned forward and folded her hand firmly in his.
    *
    The weeks that followed were unexpectedly happy for Jacina. Morning after morning, she had the Earl to herself. The Earl listened quietly as Jacina read the newspapers to him. Sometimes they discussed the contents.
    The Earl was charmed at Jacina's curiosity about the world. Soon he was asking her to choose something to read from the great collection of books in the library. He began to take great pleasure in discussing his favourite authors with her.
    She often played the pianoforte for him and sometimes she sang. The Earl would listen with lowered head, his hand across his eyes. Jacina's sweet voice touched his soul and he felt the horror of what he had experienced in India begin to melt away.
    Jacina never allowed a single untoward thought about the Earl to intrude into her mind. It was enough for her to just be with him.
    She ceased to think about how this idyll might end.
     When the weather was mild the Earl and Jacina took to strolling in the castle grounds together. The Earl had so far relaxed with his little helper, that he would lean lightly on her arm whenever he felt unsure of the terrain.
    Jacina had often wandered through the castle grounds, while her father attended the old Earl or the cook